


The Start of the Ghost's Love Story

by utterly



Series: Interesting Vicissitudes [2]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Get Together, M/M, Pharoga - Freeform, oblivious!erik, pining!nadir, what I wanted in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 22:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10397226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/utterly/pseuds/utterly
Summary: In which Erik tells Nadir about letting Raoul and Christine be together, but certainly doesn't expect these kinds of confessions from his oldest and only friend"No one had ever cared about you? No one had loved you? Do you even realise who you're speaking to, Erik? Do you realise what I've been doing for you for the past ten years?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Because the world always needs more Pharoga, and I thought it was my time to contribute.
> 
> How the chapter "The End of the Ghost's Love Story" from Leroux's novel should have gone.

"You… you did what?"

"I got rid of the allegations against him. God, I was such an _idiot_. I wanted to get him kicked out just because I _liked_ her. I feel… stupid. It's out of the ordinary for me. I dislike it."

Nadir almost laughed, both out of relief and amusement. "Well I should hope you do. You can't get people unfairly accused of crimes just because you like the girl he's with. Raoul's a sweet guy, if a little quick to act. That was among the shittiest things you've done, and I'm glad you listened to me, for once," he said. A pause. "Why did you let him go?"

Erik looked away, despite the fact that his mask hid most of his emotions anyway, gaze fixed on the kitchen. It _was_ a nicer kitchen than most students could afford, but Erik's success had made a lot of things possible. It wasn't a nice enough kitchen to distract from Nadir's question, surely.

Erik shrugged, helplessly.

"She cared about me. Christine, she… she really cared about me. No one had ever cared about me like that." At this, Nadir spun to attention, grabbing Erik by the shoulder and spinning him around, looking up at the tall man crying quietly above him.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he yelled. "No one had ever cared about you? No one had loved you? Do you even realise who you're speaking to, Erik? Do you realise what I've been doing for you for the past ten years?" Nadir had Erik by the elbows and was shaking him. Erik's eyes were searching and wide, tears no longer coming.

"Nadir?" he asked, deep voice uncertain, but Nadir only responded by pushing him backwards and shaking his head.

"No, Erik. This is my turn to talk. Have you not payed any attention?" Nadir started pacing the floor of their living room, walking back and forth with a stressful briskness. "Every time you got yourself into trouble, who talked you out of it? Every time you were about to do something stupid, who stopped you? Who advised you against everything you did that hurt you? Who never complains when you stay up into the early hours of the morning banging on your instruments? Who was the one who spent days getting you soundtrack contracts? Who has supported you through every last thing you did, and has been by your side through _everything_? And you never even stopped to consider what that means?"

Nadir stopped pacing and faced Erik again, slightly out of breath, eyes angry, face fierce.

Erik was standing, eyes tracing Nadir's face, confused, long limbs helpless.

"You… you can't care about me," he said, still unsure of himself. Nadir scoffed in response, eyes rolling.

"Oh yeah, let's just tell me how I feel, shall we? Let's just discount everything I just reminded you of to let you be self-pitying and wallow in the despair of having no one love you, shall we?" He walked to the left and dropped himself into the worn brown armchair they owned, suddenly limp and downcast, no longer angry.

"What did she do that I haven't done? Why could you love her, and see that she cared for you, but when it's me, you don't even realise? Don't get me wrong, I adore Christine, but…" His voice trailed off, and his eyes remained fixed on the sheet music Erik had left splayed over the coffee table a few days earlier.

Erik took a step towards him. Nadir looked up, their eyes meeting. He attempted a grin.

"Sorry. I'm being pathetic, I know. That's your role between us. The reversal doesn't suit you," he teased, ruefully, the upturn of his lips not reaching his eyes. Erik stepped slowly forwards and sat in the armchair across from Nadir. His long, spidery fingers were twisting together with nerves, is heart beating fast in his throat.

"Do you mean to tell me that you… you…" Nadir raised his eyebrows at Erik's lack of eloquence. Erik was a verbose and educated young man, and it was incredibly rare to see him at a loss for words. Nadir couldn't help but laugh.

Composer, architect, inventor, genius. But he couldn't talk about feelings for shit. IT wouldn't have been fair otherwise. It was nice to remember how human Erik was with every flaw. It only made Nadir fonder.

He laughed a loud, long, rollicking laugh, shaking his head at his silently bewildered friend before him.

"That I love you? _Yes,_ you great booby," said Nadir, recovering from his laughter to serenely smile at Erik. "I wouldn't do all in my power to stop anyone else being arrested. I'm a law student."

Erik gave a weak laugh and averted his eyes.

"Goddamnit, Erik, say something," Nadir snapped all of a sudden.

"What do you want me to say?" came his rich voice deceptively confident.

"Well… _something_ , at least. Erik?" A pause. Then, in a gentler tone: "Erik, take off your mask and look at me."

Erik's hand went straight to the edge of his mask in defense. This was generally understandable, but now, when it was just the two of them, not so much. Erik never worried about Nadir seeing him without a mask. Then, slowly, he spread one hand over his eyes and pulled the mask off, eyes downcast. Nadir did not react. It had been many years since Erik's face had shocked him so much as the slightest bit.

"I think perhaps she pitied me," he said. There was resounding emotion in every syllable he spoke. Nadir was powerless against that voice. "She cared about me, I know. It wasn't just pity, but the pity was there. And I think, more than anything, I wanted to be wanted more than I… than I wanted her."

In the worn brown armchair, Nadir clutched the arms and nodded.

"I know," he said in a voice little more than a whisper. "I know you did. And I know how it feels to care- to really care about and love someone, and know it can't go anywhere. And I'm sorry I told you. I know it isn't fair on you. But you _have_ been wanted. All this time, you _have_ been loved. I'm just sorry I didn't do enough to show you."

There was silence between them. Erik was tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, and Nadir was tracking the motion with his eyes. Those long fingers, though they looked deathly, were graceful and elegant in their own way.

"Forgive me, daroga," said Erik, using the name Nadir had gained during their days of child play. Nadir took a deep breath, eyes shut.

"It's okay. I know that you can't… that you don't-"

"No, not that," Erik cut him off. "Not that at all. It's just… the one time I thought I felt something, it turned out to be obsession and admiration for her immense talent. I am not like you, my friend. I do not know what love is. But-" He broke off, and the tendons in his face twitched and the man laughed softly, much to Nadir's surprise.

"-you know you're a gorgeous man, don't you?"

Nadir gulped and felt himself going positively scarlet.

"I- what?"

"I'd be no appreciator of art if I didn't notice. And, this is going to make me sound like a sentimental shit, but you know I value your company greatly, yes?" Nadir blinked.

"Uh… I mean, you tend to get rather upset when I'm late for our get-togethers, but-"

"I thought you heterosexual." Nadir's eyes widened further.

"God, Erik, can we not do this? Firstly, how did you not notice the actual boyfriends I've had among the girls I've been with? Secondly, you're a fool and I don't see why anyone would want to spend time with you when you prod at things like this."

Erik smiled, and though it wasn't precisely pleasant to see, to Nadir he looked coy and darling.

"You like spending time with me."

"That's not the point!" yelled Nadir, throwing his hands up in despair, and standing up. "Look, it's fine that you don't want this to be a thing. I can deal with that. I've been doing it long enough, but just… _recognise_ the fact that I care about you. You said you want to be wanted, so please just know that you _are_."

Erik nodded a slow, shaky nod and rose from his chair, facing Nadir, the two of them no more than three feet apart. Erik had always been exceptionally tall, and Nadir, who was an average height, still stood almost a whole head shorter than him. Erik was also exceptionally thin, and this never changed, no matter how much Nadir forced him to eat.

"May I…" Erik began, every line of his face showing his uncertainty and nervous demeanor. Nadir cocked his head, questioning. "May I try something?" At this, Nadir frowned.

"You're going to have to use your words if you want me to understand."

Erik huffed and looked up at the ceiling briefly. "Oh shut up, you old fart," and he grabbed Nadir by the front of his blue button-up and pulled him close. Nadir stumbled forwards with a sound of surprise before his mouth made contact with Erik's surprisingly smooth, if not quite soft, own. And oh goodness, he was kissing Erik- _his_ Erik- and mind went blank, too full of physical sensations-- the mouth on his, the hands holding him close by the shirt front, body against body, his own hands finding their way around a high waist, and butterflies practically smashing against the sides of his stomach-- to process anything more cognitive.

It seemed both a long time, and far too short a time, before they broke apart, blinking as they looked at each other. Nadir gulped, trying to process what had just happened. He could feel Erik's chest rising and falling against his own as Erik refused to let go of his collar. Finally, Erik spoke.

"Is it supposed to feel like that?" The talented, accomplished man Erik was could sometimes be endearingly childish.

"Like what?"

"Like my stomach is playing 'Flight of the Bumblebee' and I don't ever want it to stop?"

Nadir chuckled. "God, I hope so."

Erik shoved Nadir slightly, still not letting go of his collar, and pulling him close again.

"You're so terrible," he said, trying to glare, while the smile about his lips betrayed him. Nadir wrinkled his nose, grinning.

"Well that's a lie, for one. You adore me," he teased. There was a pause, where Nadir allowed what he'd just said to sink in. "I… I mean-" but Erik blinked once in wonder, his pupils dilating as they had done upon their Florentine history and architecture holiday three summers previously. And then Erik allowed himself to smile.

"You know what, Nadir? I believe I might."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave any/all comments and thoughts below! I always love to hear from my readers (: 
> 
> The Pharoga fans of the world are limited, so please let me know who you all are


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